


Multiplying Your Rations

by lalaloveyou



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Other, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaloveyou/pseuds/lalaloveyou
Summary: He sounded very bourgeoisie with that offer.
Relationships: Communism/Reader, Tankie/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	Multiplying Your Rations

He started to unzip his pants, his groin at the exact level with your eyes. 

His fingers were long and pale and looked so… clean. 

It was so surreal. The party always seemed to be clean and kept, while your fellow citizens were filthy. Even your hands had become darker, from all the dirt of working out in the fields. 

If this were really what society Lenin had proposed, this wouldn't be so. Either you would be as clean as the party, or the party would be as grimy as you. 

Oh well, at least the man had given you the opportunity to wash yourself and your clothes. 

You referred to him as “the man" In your mind, because he'd never really told you his name. You'd heard some other party members refer to him as “Joseph”, but calling him by his name, even in your mind, felt weird. 

The man's cock sprang out and he winced, hard and not thinking straight in the heat of getting what he wanted. 

Joseph was tall, broad, deep-voiced, and an obedient and unquestioning member of the party. It would be so unlike the party's etiquette for him to pursue you, as having sex with a worker could be interpreted as him having had blackmailed you into doing it or losing your job. You could not afford to do that. You'd be starving and resorting to eating grass if you lost this job.

He was so keen on you. He was a nice and noble man generally, but smiled at you often, asked you how your day was, sneaking you extra rations with a wink sometimes. 

Then today, he grabbed you by your arm and leaned down to whisper, “I'm respectfully offering you four times your regular rations, comrade. ” 

Then he looked into your eyes and said, “In exchange for your services.”

He sounded very bourgeoisie with that offer. 

But you let her stomach lead before your rationality, and hungrily followed him into some cubicle in the nearby factory. 

You grabbed his cock and looked up. All you could see of his face was his chin and neck because his head was tilted back. Then you became strangely conscious of your mouth, trying to keep your teeth from scraping across his dick as you sucked. 

No special techniques. You just needed to get the job done.

Try not to gag. Try not to gag.

He was so broad and thick, so of course his cock was the same. It was large and fat and a struggle for you to fit in your mouth. 

He ran his hands through your hair, had he never gotten this before? He was so into it yet you were quite literally doing practically nothing. You only intermediately jerked him off. You weren't doing anything with your tongue. You were simply suction for him. He barely knew you, therefore he could not attach a personality to you, which just made you an object right now. 

Then his breathing became shorter, he was moaning something short of a whine, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair and shoved himself even deeper in your mouth. 

You struggled not to choke and he stopped moaning, stopped breathing, for two seconds he froze until his body relaxed and he sighed. 

You opened your mouth and his semen dribbled down your chin. Disgusting. 

So many of his potential children, swimming around and about from your mouth to the collar of your uniform. 

“I'm sorry, ”he said, “I'll get you a new shirt.”

“Ok...”

You wiped the semen off of your face with your sleeve, and now his little microscopic potential children were swimming on it, too. 

He went somewhere else, leaving you there on the ground, and then came back with a folded shirt. 

He handed it to you and you stood, facing your back to him and changing. 

The two of you walked to the back of the building, your dirty shirt in hand. You were trying to avoid touching the semen covered parts. 

It was a grey and sincerely Russian day, freezing and gloomy. No one else could see you two from here, the fence was too big, but if he shot you- no one would inquire as to what happened. 

He gave you the rations in brown bags, and you ecstatically grabbed them, but you realized he'd given you more than promised. 

You could not tell him this and be less hungry. Or you could tell him, and avoid being potentially killed for letting him accidentally give you more than you were meant. It was so tempting.

But it was better to avoid being shot. 

“Uhm, sir, you gave me one extra… ”

He looked towards you, the tip of his nose bright pink from the cold. 

“Is that so? ”

“Yes… ”

He grabbed your jaw and kissed you, tilting his head to force his tongue into your mouth. 

It was one of the wettest things you'd ever felt, and after overcoming your surprise you kissed him back as you were supposed to. 

He pulled away from you and said, “The extra is for the kiss. I'll see you later, comrade, but it's time to get back to work. ”

Some drool had dribbled down your chin, and you wiped it with your sleeve and nodded.

Your knees hurt.


End file.
